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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399680">Into The Thicket</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanchebriar/pseuds/Blanchebriar'>Blanchebriar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Anxious GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Ballroom Dancing, Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Boys In Love, Dorks in Love, Dream is trying his best, Falling In Love, Fluff, Flustered Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), George REALLY likes cows, George likes cows, Haunted Castle, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Jealous Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Magical Realism, Maybe a little angst, Mutual Pining, No Angst, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Pining, Relationship(s), Sapnap Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Slow Dancing, Soft Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Spice, They bake together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved, Why Did I Write This?, and baking, beast dream, but little to non, he's homesick, he's not a beast though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:01:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,064</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanchebriar/pseuds/Blanchebriar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The woods surrounding George's homes were large and bountiful. Filled to the brim with fog and horror, thickets and thorns twisting every which way. Each year Sapnap ventured through these woods as George sat back and wished him farwell, waiting until his inevitable return. His return which always came no matter the nightmares and anxeity that plauged his mind.</p><p>Until one day, Sapnaps horse came back without it's rider and George is forced to venture into the thicket. And into the waiting arms of a masked, albeit terriying, cloaked stranger.</p><p>A Beauty and the Beast rendition of DreamNotFound.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I literally can't believe I'm writing this oh my god. Might end up making this private for only account holders later.</p><p>Hyperfixation is a bitch.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The air is blue and keen and cold,<br/>With snow the roads and fields are white<br/>But here the forest's clothed with light<br/>And in a shining sheath enrolled.<br/>Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass,<br/>Seems clad miraculously with glass:<br/></em>
  <br/>
  <em>Above the ice-bound streamlet bends<br/>Each frozen fern with crystal ends.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>By William Sharp</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>Checking the satchel one last time, George buttoned the patch before handing it to his awaiting friend.</p>
<p>"Your good to go,"<br/>Upon his horse Sapnap openly laughed at him. Softly, not mocking his fear in regards to his closest companion departing,</p>
<p>"Don't look so sad! It's only for a few days," he punctuated this by sticking his tongue out in a childlike manner. "You do this every year."</p>
<p>George grimly smiled back, "and next year I will be just the same."<br/>Rolling his eyes, Sapnap swung his leg off his steed, feet hitting the ground in a puff of dust. Swinging the satchel to rest across his shoulders, he turned to face his companion still grim in the face.</p>
<p>"Is there anything you want?" He spoke comfortingly, a familiar topic.</p>
<p>This inflicted a soft laugh. "A mushroom."</p>
<p>"You ask for that every year," Sapnap rephrased his earlier sentence, the yearly song and dance falling into step as they recited the amicable lines.</p>
<p>George then openly laughed, sadness drifting away if only for a moment, "and you always bring it." He paused, smile turning playful, "and next year I will ask the same."<br/>Words having been spoken. The lines recited, Sapnap gave a sturdy hug to his friend, patting him on the back as he pulled away.</p>
<p>"You worry for nothing, George." He stepped away before securing his luggage one last time. Climbing back on his horse dutifully. With a soft kick to the side, Sapnap gave him one finale smile thrown over his shoulder, before the fog over took him into the forest.</p>
<p>George waved to the departing figure. Tension clawed into his back as he watched his dear friend sink deeper into the fog, into the dark wood. He went every year, and he always came back. George knew more than anyone else Sapnaps yearning for adventure, he knew his friend would throw himself into danger time and time again, and with every new scar George would be there to mend it.</p>
<p>Each year Sapnap ventured away from their small hillside village into the fogged dark forest. The forest was always shrewd in mystery and darkness, across the land each person knew of the dangers and legends that lurked inside. Children were warned to stay away, and although not a child, George still stayed far away from the dark wood that encircled their homes.</p>
<p>Sapnap was not as fearful as George. He knew himself to be safe, tactical, thoughtful. He read his books, baked, looked after the village animals. On the other hand Sapnap, the thought already making him smile softly, was intelligent but only thought with his heart. He craved adventure that was not easy to find in their countryside homes, and each year during the summer months would go through the dark wood trail, seeking to trade at the nearby village. George always worried and stressed. But Sapnap always came back.</p>
<p>With one final huff, George swiveled on his heel and turned to walk home. Away from the tree line that his friend had ventured into moments before. George took a deep breath and told himself that just this once, it was okay not to worry. He didn't have to fear. Sapnap would come back in a few day's time, with stories and items. And, he thought smiling to himself, his mushroom. Each year like clock work when Sapnap asked when what he wanted, he would simply reply his request for a mushroom. It was the only answer he would give and Sapnap overtime stopped refuting it. A simple request, a mushroom. Something bountiful in the forest, something easy to acquire, something Sapnap would always bring when he came back to him.</p>
<p>Hand twisting the door handle and stepping into his house, he huffed and shook his head to the empty room. Yes, Sapnap would be back with his mushroom. Just as always, George tried to let his shoulders relax as he fell into his sheets with a finalizing thump.</p>
<p>The sheets bunched beneath his fingers. George squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to envision the meadows around the land, the animals he so adored. The only thing that would surface was the dark woods. Instead of soft flowers and cows he was cursed with towering thickets of oak. As the fog encircled the bases of the oak so did the fear grip his chest. He willed himself to sleep. Eyes clutching against unwanted images as hands clutched against sheets.</p>
<p>Instead of the meadows and animals he begged for as George drifted, he was instead gifted with nightmares of Sapnap being encircled with fog. His night was filled with his dearest friend being dragged into the thicket, never to be seen again.</p>
<p>He awoke in sweaty sheets.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Entrapped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which George trades places with Sapnap.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm gonna put this in every chapter. I can't believe I wrote this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hooves pounding against the dark trail. George wrung his fingers through his horse's mane, urging her to run faster. Blind anxious fear was replaced by steel, unwavering drive. Just minutes prior George had been resting at the meadows, lain across the soft grass and flowers as the warm sunlight kissed his features. His eyes were closed and his head tilted back. George had heard the unmistakable sound of his and Sapnap horse, with that noise meant the return of his friend. He remembered while on top of the horse, he remembered his soft happiness at the sunlight and meadow, and then it would soon be joined by the return of his friend. He had sat up and turned toward the sound. Expecting to see his dearest companion, instead he was witness to a horse without a rider.</p>
<p>It was safe to say, that the fear that gripped him could send any man into hysterics. And hysterics George was near in, his beloved horse was in fear and distress and the rider was nowhere to be gone. After the initial, terrifying panic, George hoisted himself up and road right back into the forest, desperate to find his friend. Leaves and askew branches slapped and scraped his face.</p>
<p>The horse skidded and stopped at the fork in the road, George almost toppled off at the force of the stop. He could immediately detect the source of his dear friend's peril. In front of him where he faced, was the trail used by the select few visitors who dared venture into the forest in the first place. It was well worn and clearly visible, a trail Sapnap took yearly to the neighboring village on the opposite end of the forest. It was a trail George <em>knew </em>that Sapnap was familiar with.</p>
<p>It all clicked into place once he saw the large, twisted tree that had toppled over in front of it. The branches were so thick, thorns adorning each one, George could barely make out the trail on the other side. To his left was the forlorn stump the tree had fallen from. Branches and thorns licked at George's arms, threatening to break the skin, as he ventured near the broken husk of the tree. <em>No</em>, Sapnap could not have gone through here, after searching more George discovered a second trail. It was hidden, sparsely used, behind thickets and bushes of thorns. Branches were overgrown and stretched into the trail as if they were reaching for anyone who dared to venture in.</p>
<p>Entering the thicket were barely detectable footprints. Having been made the day, perhaps hours before. George took haste and quickly mounted himself back onto his horse, grabbing her mane and urging her to go into the thicket. With much persuasion he managed to convince his fearful steed to enter, he took no time in rushing her through the dark trail.</p>
<p>Minutes passed as he rode further into the woods, further from his home and closer hopefully to Sapnap. <em>Or at least he hoped</em>.</p>
<p>Time seemed to slow as the nonexistent light dimmed further. George had no idea how long he had been on the trail, but adrenaline and fear were still present in the back of his mind.</p>
<p>Soon, over the twisted thickets of trees and reaching thorns, George finally came across his unknown destination. In the light of the moon, he could make out that even here the thickets and thorns were still bountiful. A castle lay in front of him, daunting and large and somewhere where he knew he had to go.</p>
<p><em>For Sapnap</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Thorns and vines stretched over the towers and walls of the castle. Each space crawling with pure black webs of spikes. It was frighteningly beautiful, the architecture old and regal. Unmoving gargoyles looked upon him from the slanted rooftop, dowsed in the bright moonlight. Stealing himself, George gripped his horse's mane before tossing himself onto the dusty dark ground. He took a breath before slowly making his way up the large grand stairway. His trembling hands gripped the railing, but he soon discovered that even the railing was barbed with thorns, he quickly hissed at the pinpricks of pain while pulling his smarting hands away.</p>
<p>Rubbing his now bleeding palms, George took up a faster pace up the stairs, realizing that he could no longer dawdle under the gaze of fear. At the top of the stairs was the grand doorway. It, just as the rest of the castle, was truly beautiful as it was terrifying, but George had no time to admire the bronze fixtures adorning it. Taking one last deep breath he turned the cold door handle and pushed the door open. The bronze bulb cool under his bleeding palms, It gave away with not even a creek. Which, George thought was an oddity.</p>
<p>The door fell shut in a finalizing swoop behind him as George stepped through the threshold. Without taking the time to gather his surroundings, he shouted out his friend's name into the dimly lit room.</p>
<p>"Sapnap?"</p>
<p>The word echoed through the spacious walls, bouncing back at him. A fireplace lit up the room, multiple hallways and stairs surrounded the entryway. With bated breath, George was about to call out again when,</p>
<p>"<em>George</em>? George!"</p>
<p>Sapnaps voice, although muffled, rang through clear and true. Geroge's knees nearly buckled from relief. The gnawing, deep-rooted fear that had been festering suddenly was being chipped away. Sapnap was <em>here</em>! He had found him. George wanted to sob in relief.</p>
<p>Sapnaps shrill, muffled voice rang out again. "<em>George</em>!"</p>
<p>His head whipped towards the corridor from which the voice emanated from. His feet hit the flooring hard as he sprinted down the halls, hot breath wafting back into his face.</p>
<p>"Sapnap!" He called once more.</p>
<p>Sapnap soon called out for him again. George's heart soared with glee when he noted that his voice was less muffled.</p>
<p>He was getting closer.</p>
<p>He pumped his legs faster, urging himself to hurry as his breath became heavier and heavier with the effort.</p>
<p>Torches of light blurred past him as he ran. Breathing became harder the further he went, and even harder as he sprinted up multiple flights of stairs. Sapnap's voice got more clear as George drew closer. The walls between them becoming less and less.</p>
<p>The remaining churning pit of fear finally was gone when he made eye contact with Sapnap. His dearest friend was enclosed in a cell, his hands gripped white against the bars. Sapnap looked at him with wide-eyed fear, dirt and blood caked onto his face. George hoped to god it wasn't his own.</p>
<p>"<em>Sapnap</em>!"</p>
<p>"<em>George</em>!" Sapnap cried out in a near sob, fear and relief both mixing into his voice.</p>
<p>George rushed to meet him. His slender arms slipping through the metal bars to reach for him. His friend's white-knuckled grip moved from the bars to George's arm. Sapnap was in disarray, trying to press himself as close as he could get to his newly arrived companion. The bars being the only thing separating them.</p>
<p>"What happened? What is this place? Why are you her-"</p>
<p>George's words were cut off by Sapnap's frantic ones.</p>
<p>"George. <em>George</em>, you need to go. You need to leave. <em>Please</em>."</p>
<p>Sapnap took a frantic breath,</p>
<p>"<em>Please</em>, go!</p>
<p>George was taken aback. "What? Sapnap, what's going on? I'm not leaving you!"</p>
<p>Sapnap clutched onto him harder. "Please," he seemingly begged him.</p>
<p>"Please go now. Before <em>he</em> comes back."</p>
<p>"What? Who? Sapnap," George replied back, the relief he had felt at seeing him being chased away at his frantic words. He didn't understand what was happening, why was Sapnap asking him to go? What was going on?</p>
<p>He didn't know where he was, who Sapnap was referencing to, or what had gotten his dearest friend so scared to the point of tears. To the point of tears, Sapnap was not one to cry. He was the brave one out of the two of them, the one who longed for adventure and fighting. Sapnap would always coddle and laugh at George who cried over meaningless things, over nothing. Now he was here, on the brink of tears.</p>
<p>George demanded again, "<em>Who</em> Sapnap?"</p>
<p>The next words that were spoken were not from George, nor Sapnap. Pins and needles crept up his spine as he heard the damning voice.</p>
<p>"<em>Me</em>,"</p>
<p>His neck nearly broke from how fast he turned to face the disembodied voice shrouded in shadows. George placed himself in front of Sapnap, trying fleetingly to shield him from his captor. He steeled his features, his voice came out unwavering.</p>
<p>"Who are you?"</p>
<p>The cold, disembodied voice replied back. George couldn't make out a single thing through the shadows. "The master of this castle."</p>
<p>George nearly shivered from the tone. Sapnap cried out once more, "George, you need to go! Now!"</p>
<p>He whipped his head back around, pushing himself against the cold bars. "And leave you here? No!"</p>
<p>Sapnap had opened his mouth to plead again. But George had already turned around.</p>
<p>"Let him go!"</p>
<p>He heard a step sound against the cold stone floor. Towards him. Towards <em>them</em>.</p>
<p>"He invited himself into my house. Stole from me," another step, "A trespassing thief."</p>
<p>Another step.</p>
<p>"He didn't mean it! He-"</p>
<p>"I, I took a <em>mushroom</em>! George I," Sapnap paused and swallowed, "I was leaving and, there were these beautiful glowing mushrooms and I"</p>
<p>"I was going home and. I remembered,"</p>
<p>He was rambling, cutting over and jumping his words. Shaking.</p>
<p>"I remembered your mushroom. You wanted your mushroom, how could I come home without your mushroom? It was so pretty, I-"</p>
<p>Sapnap audibly swallowed. Tears now freely dripped down his face "You would have loved it, George. It was blue, and so. So sparkly, I-"</p>
<p>"Sapnap," George replied, becoming choked up as well.</p>
<p>"Let him go!" He demanded, stepping towards the darkness.</p>
<p>The voice growled low in reply. He took another step towards the duo. George could finally make out a faint outline in the darkness.</p>
<p>"He will suffer the consequences. There is nothing you can do."</p>
<p>George himself stepped forward. To his left was a torch atop the wall providing a meager light. He unlatched it, lifting it from its place on the wall. The stick warm in his hand, George took a step forward the darkened figure. Sapnap called out for him as George drew closer. He could hear the shadowed man taking quiet steps toward him as well.</p>
<p>The orange flames licked away at the darkness.</p>
<p>Holding the torch in his blood-caked hand, George held it out, Illuminating the shadows. Sapnap called and pleaded for him to leave. But he just took another step forward.</p>
<p>The man loomed over him. His height rivaling George's by many inches. Atop his face lay a stark white mask which contrasted with the dark room, a crudely drawn smile adorned it. His form was hidden by a green cloak, further hiding the figure and shrowding him in mystery.</p>
<p>The man took another step forward, his mask almost illuminating in the dark. The smile seemed to mock him, the cloak hung at his shoulders. George noted with horror the blood-soaked clothes the man wore, an equally bloody axe resting across his shoulders.</p>
<p>He repeated his earlier words. "There's nothing you can do."</p>
<p>"There, there must be <em>something</em>,"</p>
<p>George paused. Facial features becoming sullen.</p>
<p>"Take me instead."</p>
<p>Immediately Sapnap was crying out in dismay. "<em>George no</em>!"</p>
<p>The masked man only tilted his head in surprise at him, George noted how he flexed his fingers against his axe handle.</p>
<p>"You would take his place?"</p>
<p>"I'm the one who asked for the mushroom! Didn't you hear what he said?" George tried convincingly, his heart panged with each pleading word from his dear friend behind him.</p>
<p>"George please! Go home!"</p>
<p>Two words rang out amongst them. "Very well."</p>
<p>And so their places were switched. Sapnap's pleading only became louder.</p>
<p>Taking a step back, George spoke softly to the man in front of him. "Can I at least say goodbye?"</p>
<p>The masked head slightly tilted in response. Nodding up and down.</p>
<p>As Sapnap was let free, he wrapped his arms around George's small frame. Pleading and begging with him. George only wrapped his arms around his neck in response, digging his fingers in Sapnaps wrinkled shirt. They had been like this days prior, in a much different situation. Then Sapnap had patted him on the back in reassurance. Now he was clutching at his clammy skin in desperation.</p>
<p>Sapnap was soon ripped away from him. And George was pushed into the awaiting cell.</p>
<p>Now their roles reversed. George clutched the cell bars, though not as tightly, and gave Sapnaps hand one last squeeze. He spoke softly to his dearest friend, a final goodbye.</p>
<p>"Take care of Bessy, will you?"</p>
<p>Sapnap was dragged away from George, and the darkness overcame him.</p>
<p>He was alone. And he finally let the tears fall.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And so we (begrudgingly) begin.</p>
<p>I'm probably gonna delete this in like a week lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Introduced</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A homesick George is formally introduced to his captor.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm too tired to read over this again, so sorry for any wording/spelling mistakes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was dark. Very dark.</p>
<p>George sat up, back cold and sore from the damp concrete, and immediately winced from the stab of pain. Prickles and pins of hurt scattered up his arms and legs. His hands still bore the dried blood and pain from last night's adventure. </p>
<p>or nightmare.</p>
<p>Sore. Everywhere was sore, he noted internally. The cold seemed to creep into his very being, his bones. Now sat up on the floor, George took the time to look around his cell. It, just like the floor, was cold and uncomfortable. A single barred window looked over him across the parallel wall. The pale, yellow sunlight stretched across the flooring, reaching out to comfort him.</p>
<p>On days when George craved peace, he would go out to the pasture with the cows. Laying on the soft grass, he would reach his hand towards the sun, and simply smile as the light broke through his parted fingers. If he closed his eyes, George could almost smell the morning mildew. The soft sounds of the cows, the warmth of the sun on his face as he lazed on the warm grass.</p>
<p>He had been doing that yesterday before. How dearly he wanted to go back to the simplicity.</p>
<p>George laid across the concrete cell once more. He positioned himself so, just like the pasture, the sun could reach him. Just as he had many times before, George reached for the sun, and let the light break through his fingers. </p>
<p>It warmed his face, and he smiled. At least he got to have a reminder of home in this way. He at least could see the sun he loved so dearly. Sapnap would always be able to see the sun too, which comforted him somewhat. The warm glow across the floor contrasted beautifully with the dark cell, a singular beam of light reaching. </p>
<p>Sighing, George placed his arm over his stomach, lacing his fingers. He turned his head as to get away from the onslaught of sunlight, closing his eyes to bask under the warmth it brought. Sapnap would always call him some sort of cold-blooded reptile due to George's love of the sun, his affinity for naps under its gaze. </p>
<p>He was captive in this unknown place, confirmed to a dark damp cell that reeked of mold, and yet George was calm under the rays. His friend had been ripped away from him, and yet he was calm. George had always known Sapnaps love for adventure and heroics, his bull-headedness, George always sat back and supported him. But in the back of his mind, he knew that's not something one could do with that sort of friend, something was bound to happen. In the deepest crevices of the darkest places, George knew Sapnap would one day abandon him for the sake of adventure. </p>
<p>George never expected to get caught up in it, but nevertheless, it was the same, it was less than he was expecting to happen. Sapnap was safe, so the previous night's panic was subdued, and George simply laid back to accept his fate. He always knew his friend would one day do great things, he deserved to be out in the world doing them. </p>
<p>He couldn't hold Sapnap back anymore. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>George had fallen asleep under the protecting gaze of the sun. Tiredness no longer wrung at his vision, although his body still ached from its beating it was slightly less so. </p>
<p>Sitting up, he reached his arms up, satisfyingly cracking his bones to ease the tension. Based on the sun's angle George guessed he had been asleep for no more than two hours, it was mid-day then. He briefly wondered what Sapnap would be doing, would he be upset? Would he be thinking of George as he was him? </p>
<p>He sighed quietly into the still air.</p>
<p>There was no use in thinking of that.</p>
<p>George could no nothing except lean against the cell wall, thinking of times that had warm bread and soft grass. His mind was wandering, thinking of anything but where he was, remembering the past and reveling in memories. George startled when he heard a creak. </p>
<p>Jumping up, he surveyed the cell before him to see where the sound had come from. George was astonished to find it had come from the cell door.</p>
<p>The door, of which, was <em>wide open</em>.</p>
<p>Flabergasted, he took a few tentative steps forward, expecting it to slam shut in his face. He gingerly stepped out, watching the darkness around him for his captour. Seconds past and nothing became apparent.</p>
<p>Though, George knew if the man didn't want to be seen, he wouldn't see him. </p>
<p>He steeled himself as he pressed forward. Walking down the winding stairs slowly and softly, torches dimly lit the stairs below his feet. Last night, George had been rushed to find Sapnap, now he took his time down the twisting stairwell and admired the architecture. The handlebar was firm under his grip. </p>
<p>Soon, he reached the end of the winding staircase, and he stood dumbly. Where was he supposed to go? That, he had no idea. George knew it would be ignorant to just try and leave, what if the man tried to get at Sapnap again? George shuddered as he remembered the man's bloody ax, clothes coated in dried red under his imposing cloak. </p>
<p>Suddenly to the left of George, a previously dark torch was lit up from thin air. His eyebrows furrowed as he walked towards it.</p>
<p>First the cell door, then this. What was going on?</p>
<p>As he neared the newly lit torch, a second on lit up further down the hallway. Then a third, then a fourth. As soon as George neared one, another would light up further down, seemingly leading him somewhere. Too, he didn't know. Just as the rest of the castle, or as much as he'd seen, the hallway was beautiful. Painting of wars and warriors decorated the walls. Gods, and goddess adorning the hallway gazed from painted eyes as he walked. </p>
<p>George was almost baffled by the paintings alone.  </p>
<p>The torch trail led him to his destination eventually. The last torch, to the left of a grand dark oak door. A golden owl door handle starred back at him as George hesitated. He tentatively turned the knob before pushing it open, as he took his first step into the room the trail of torches went out. George shut the door with a finalizing thud, and what he saw before him took his breath away. </p>
<p>A grand bedroom laid before him. George's mouth dropped as he took in the scene before him. </p>
<p>It was olden and antique, beautiful to gaze at, he felt like he was disturbing the room's beauty by entering. The curtains were a warm golden yellow as he pushed them aside, gazing wistfully at the ground far below. He then turned towards the bed, curtains falling from his grip as he stepped towards it, the bed canopy was the same silk and yellow as the room's curtains. The silk sheets were soft as George petted him, the room was big. It was nothing as he'd ever seen before and George felt astounded he could simply gaze upon it.</p>
<p>George again went back to the window, wanted to gaze at the sun once more. It was a great form of comfort for him, if he could see the sun he knew it would be okay, when Sapnap gazed at the sun George hoped he thought of him. It lurked far above the treeline as George gazed on, deep in thought.</p>
<p>So deep, in fact, that he didn't notice the smiled mask watching him. </p>
<p>It indeed took him an embarrassingly five minutes before George got the thought to look towards the ground, and <em>oh</em>-</p>
<p>The start must have shown on his face, because his captor's shoulders shook like he was <em>amused</em> at him. <em>Laughing</em> even. </p>
<p>Quickly turning away, George closed the curtains to hide his embarrassment. Maybe he was losing his edge. </p>
<p>It had maybe been ten minutes after he had closed the curtains. George was debating opening again because he really wanted to look at the sun, but what if his captor was out there, but he wanted to-</p>
<p>Two clear knocks rang through the air. </p>
<p>Panic immediately licked at his heart. Oh god, was it him? George wanted to lick his wounds in peace. It was the day after he had been riped away from his friend, couldn't he get one day?</p>
<p>He sighed quietly, barring himself as he walked towards the door.</p>
<p>Opening it, George stood at the doorway with his eyebrows raised in question. </p>
<p>His captor was on the other side, masked head tilted at him. George didn't know if it was meant to be menacing, and he couldn't decide if had the intended effect. </p>
<p>"How did you get here?" His voice was not soft, or hard, but it was honest. Not barbed with anger, only curiosity. And George felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosen.</p>
<p>He tilted his own head to mirror his captor, "Uhm, well. The torches led me-" George stopped mid-sentence as he realized just how ludicrous that sounded. Even to his own ears. </p>
<p>George tried again. "The cell door opened, and they kind just lit up a trail," He said while gesturing to the torch on the outside wall. </p>
<p>The man seemed to pause for a moment. Stilling. </p>
<p>"<em>What</em>?"</p>
<p>"I know how it sounds, I just," George replied back to the flabbergasted man. </p>
<p>He huffed back at him, "It <em>likes</em> you!" </p>
<p>Georges mouth opened in confusion. "What?"</p>
<p>His arms gestured in the air between them, "The castle, it's. It's very picky."</p>
<p>At no response, because how was he supposed to respond to that, his captor continued. </p>
<p>"It's not alive. But, it has a personality." George just shook his head at him, "Well, it <em>hates</em> me." </p>
<p>A quiet laugh was ripped unwillingly from his mouth at the statement. Moments of silence passed as they observed each other, George remembered the blood-stained clothing from last night. The man's current attire held no trace of its previous crimson, but George couldn't help but wonder how it got there in the first place. </p>
<p>The kindred, comfortable, silence they had taken up was soon broken by the cloaked man's next words. "He wouldn't leave, you know." It was spoken softly, no trace of emotion, just soft words at bringing up the mention of George's friend. As if he were treading on unsolid ground. </p>
<p>
  <em>He was.</em>
</p>
<p>George's next words were just as soft, if not softer. "Sapnap?"</p>
<p>Only a nod in response.</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"He clearly wasn't happy with the switch." </p>
<p>The switch. George thought grimly, the switch of positions of captured and free. The man was so nonchalant, uncaring. He had imprisoned a man, and was having a pleasant conversation with his captor! He might as well, he thought, George would be here for the unforeseeable future. Best to make sure he doesn't end up being the blood on his captor's shirt. </p>
<p>Most likely noticing his newfound tenseness, he spoke again. "I basically had to kick him out,"</p>
<p>That, George laughed at. Leave it to his friend to refuse rescue, "That sounds like Sapnap to me."  He thought briefly if Sapnap would try and come for him, to bring him back home, but George knew Sapnap was smarter than that. </p>
<p>George raised his head up to gaze at the man in front of him. He took a clear look, this being the first time he had the ability to up close and not shrowded in shadow and fear. The green cloak was well worn, going down to the floor. His gloved hands were ripped at the fingers, the skin uncovered and pale. He also noted the silver and golden bands adorning the man's calloused fingers, it was some of the only skin George was witnessed to. His arms were gloved, and what was not gloved was covered in worn bandages. the only other skin was the sliver on his neck, not covered with the cloak or mask. A puff of dirty blond hair was uncovered by the hood, fluffed up and messy. </p>
<p>"George?"</p>
<p>He startled at his name being spoken, he realized he had been caught staring. George bashfully huffed before realizing his name was spoken. His <em>name</em>.</p>
<p>"How do you know my name?" He tried not to let any confusion creep into his tone, but knew it didn't work based on the tilt to the man's head. He seemed to do that a lot. </p>
<p>"Your friend said it," George's mouth formed an 'O' shape at that. Sapnap! Of course, he stopped and considered. "Well, what about you?"</p>
<p>"What about me?" He said back, not getting the question.</p>
<p>George reiterated. "What's your name?"</p>
<p>A few seconds pass. Not tense, but the previous comfort had shifted into something else. </p>
<p>He simply replied back, "Dream."</p>
<p>George's face scrunched up. "What kinda name is that?"</p>
<p><em>Dream</em> let out a chuckle at that. "A name."</p>
<p>"Fair enough," He shrugged back at him.</p>
<p>Hesitating for a few moments, George opened his mouth to ask a question. Opened it, closed it again. Dream waited patiently, George eventually spoke softly between them. </p>
<p>"How... how was he?"</p>
<p>He wrung his hands anxiously together at his waist. George didn't get to talk to him, not really. He felt a tug as he thought of Sapnap, he wondered how he was doing now. But he wouldn't be able to get that answer, so George settled for this one.</p>
<p>"Angry. Upset, I had to forcibly grant him freedom." Dream said it with a joking tone of voice, but George just felt himself shrink inwards. What he wouldn't do to be able to see the cows at the pasture. The villagers affectionately dubbed them <em>George's cows</em>. And while they weren't technically his, he and everyone that mattered thought so. </p>
<p>He missed home.</p>
<p>Dream must have noticed his change of mood yet again, because he asked him another question, trying to lighten the mood. Why was he still here talking to him?</p>
<p>"Who's Bessy?"</p>
<p>Bessy? George thought briefly on how he could possibly know her, he couldn't think of anything and knew Sapnap wouldn't tell him.</p>
<p>"My cow. How do you-"</p>
<p>Dream chuckled again, "Just as I knew your name, I was right there. Bessy, you told him to take care of him."</p>
<p>"<em>Her</em>," George added.</p>
<p>"My mistake. Her," he paused before adding, "Wait, cow? I thought it was like a person or something."</p>
<p>It was George's turn to chuckle. "Yes, a cow. I really like them. There's some by our village, she's my favorite."</p>
<p>"Such an odd request. To take care of a cow."</p>
<p>George pouted. His sunken mood lifted. "She's my favorite cow!" Dream only shook his head at him.</p>
<p>"The last words you said to your friend were about a cow." He said in disbelief. </p>
<p>"She needs to be looked after!" George insisted.</p>
<p>"A cow!"</p>
<p>"Yes!"</p>
<p>"How's he going to look after it? Tuck it into bed?"</p>
<p>George huffed at him and crossed his arms. "No! And she, not it! She likes apples!"</p>
<p>This apparently made Dream more confused. "Apples?"</p>
<p>George nodded again in affirmation. Dream tilted his head in a joking manner, "Imagine feeding your pet cow apples."</p>
<p>George felt a sudden indignant spike of anger at this. It was rational he knew, Dream was the one who took him away from said apple-eating cow. And here he was joking about it, George was getting too comfortable with his captor. He wasn't <em>Dream</em>, he was his <em>captor</em>. The easy conversation that came was nice, but it needed to stop. </p>
<p>"Imagine kidnapping someone."</p>
<p>The only reaction George could determine from Dream was a twitch of his right hand. From the twitch and the fact he couldn't determine his facial expressions, George didn't know how Dream would react to his barbed words aimed at his captivity. </p>
<p>That night, when George was lain on the honey yellow bed, Dream asked him to join him for dinner through the oak door.</p>
<p>George declined. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Dining</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>George accepts Dream's request for dinner, words are exchanged and a better understanding is made.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pretty proud of this one, thank you to the people who left such nice comments! I've decided I'm keeping this up and am going to update regularly ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night, after George's outburst and the decline of dinner, he woke up to still warm bread in front of his door.</p><p>A peace offering of sorts.</p><p>It was warm and firm under his fingers, heat billowed out as George split the bread beneath his fingers. The soft texture seemed to melt in his mouth as he bit down. </p><p>Hours later just as the night before, Dream's silent footsteps echoed down the hallway as he approached his room. He again requested Georges's presence for dinner. And he declined. </p><p>George declined the next day,</p><p>And the next,</p><p>And the next,</p><p>It was the fifth day of George's entrapment when he finally caved and accepted the invitation. After five days of Dream politely asking, how could he continue to say no? George knew he was being stubborn, and although he had a justified reason, one night couldn't hurt. Plus, saved from the few hallways and hours George explored throughout those five days, he was bored. There was only so much he could walk around and stare at paintings. As beautiful as they were, he wasn't used to the quiet of near-constant isolation. </p><p>His courage only went so far. And George would only exit his room for a half-hour at a time at most, a handful of hallways surrounding his room. </p><p>It was just one dinner, what harm could it be. </p><p>George was on the now ruffled bed. Expensive linen sheets tangled and misconstrued, the pillows had lost their fluffy and untouchable perfect quality to them under his usage. He had heard the quiet telltale footsteps of Dream's presence down the hallway, announcing his arrival. </p><p>The expected knock came just seconds later, followed by his soft voice asking if he'd join him. The same question he had been asking each night. The softness in his voice was always something that surprised George, although he'd only been in his company for a short period. Dream seemed the type of person that many people would fear, but here he was leaving George bread and politely requesting his presence again and again.</p><p>Dreams few moments of silence after George's confirmation told him that he'd surprised the man with his acceptance. </p><p>And so, hours later when the sun was set and the white moonlight cast its glow amongst the twisted trees, George made his way down the stairs towards the dining room. He hadn't explored the castle much at all due to his hesitance of its safety, but when he had set foot in few of its many hallways, he discovered the kitchen entryway. </p><p>George recalled the day before. It was late at night and he had been starving, that alone had conquered his hesitance when he first came across the kitchen. The room was lit, and its vastness was just as the rest of the castle was. All the kitchen equipment was fancy and expensive, golden and reflective, the cabinets were a beautiful dark oak with golden handles. </p><p>He had gone up to the cabinets first, George would never admit to anyone ever how much difficulty he had reaching them. Going up to the tips of his toes proved futile and eventually, he had to enact the held of a nearby stool. His height wasn't the problem he reasoned to himself, it was just the tallness of the cabinets.</p><p>He was <em>not</em> short. </p><p>Dismay shot through him when he actually opened the doors of the cabinet. The dark oak shelves were completely empty. He had been surprised at this, but on the other hand kind of expected it. This castle didn't seem the type of place where food was abundant. George had sighed at the fact he would go to bed hungry and shut the cabinet door.</p><p>He was about to step off the stool and go back to his room when he heard rustling, if it could even be called that. George was startled to realize the sound had come from inside the cabinet.</p><p>Still on the stool, he tentatively placed his hand back on the golden handle before he paused, fearing that maybe it was an animal. He heard a second rustling sound and took it as a sign, so with much hesitance, George opened the cabinet for the second time. </p><p>What he was met with made him burst out in laughter. He was mostly confused, but it was honestly astonishing. </p><p>The bare cabinets were now stocked to the brim. It was more food than George had ever seen in his entire life. He moved to the next cabinet and was met with the same thing. George smiled wider when he saw pastries at the forefront of the mountain of food. </p><p>Plucking the flakey sweet tarts from their resting place, George made his way back through the kitchen. He muttered a soft "Thank you," as the door was politely swung open for him. As he walked down the hall toward his quarters George recalled something Dream had said to him, </p><p>
  <em>"It likes you!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It's not alive. But, it has a personality."<br/></em>
</p><p>He had laughed again at the thought, George hadn't fully known what Dream had meant, nor had he believed him at the time. Then, he only thanked the castle again as he bit down on the soft tart. </p><p>George smiled softly as he recounted it. Instead of the kitchen entrance, George was now in the dining room. Just as the cabinets the central table was a beautiful dark oak, golden candlesticks lit the table in a soft yellow glow, silver utensils and china plats lining in front of each seat. At the head of the table sat Dream, white mask starring back at him. He briefly wondered how Dream would eat. </p><p>"Thank you for joining me, George," he giggled at the politeness of the statement. </p><p>In a similar polite manner, George replied, "Thank you for inviting me." Dream only chuckled before pausing, considering his words. "I wasn't expecting you to agree."</p><p>George only nodded, "Neither was I, really."</p><p>He is immensely startled to find that as he looks down an abundance of food is now on the once empty plate. George flinched back in surprise, Dream wheezed in amusement in response. </p><p>The smell that wafted into George's face was something that immediately made his mouth water. The plate was piled high with meat and bread, with multiple types of greens and fruits. It smelled heavenly, the rich food being something he was not accustomed to. </p><p>"You get used to it after a while," Dream said after his wheezes died down. George only pouted at him, Dream only laughed harder. </p><p>"This place is so... <em>weird,</em>" Dream nodded at him. He paused when he noticed the lack of food on Dream's plate. </p><p>"Are you not going to eat?" </p><p>Dream only tapped his mask in response. </p><p>George tilted his head, "Ah, that." He then, after a few moments, openly laughed. "You ask me to join you for dinner for literal days, then refuse to eat."</p><p>He laughed, but instead of responding, Dream merely shook his head at George. "I heard you laugh."</p><p>Dream offered no more words, George tilted his head in confusion at the abrupt change of subject.</p><p>"Yesterday. I heard you laughing."</p><p>George thought back to last night, at the kitchen, and merely smiled. "I was in the kitchen," Dream chuckled. "And?"</p><p>"I was looking for something to eat. There was nothing in the cabinets," George paused before continuing. "When I opened them a second time a few seconds later, there was. Frankly, more food than I'd ever seen."</p><p>Dream stilled before he burst out in wheezes in laughter. It was astounding to George how easy conversation was, just days before he had been in a prison cell because of him. </p><p>Unintentionally, George had started thinking of Dream as <em>Dream</em>, not his captor. He found he wasn't upset about it as he should be. </p><p>"I told you it liked you," Dream shook his head in disbelief, "I always have to make my own." He huffed at George. </p><p>Dream added on, "Unfair"</p><p>George giggled in response before his eyes turned toward the still steaming plate of food, he looked up at Dream once more, but he only gestured at him to go on. </p><p>It was rich on his tongue, and he covered his mouth to hide his astonishment. </p><p>"It's good, yeah?"</p><p>"Very," He replied before continuing. </p><p>"I'm glad you like it," Dreams elbows were set on the table, hands resting under his masked jaw. Watching him. </p><p>George tried to ignore it as he attempted to focus on his food. He managed to do it only for a minute or two. A high blush dusted his features as he noticed Dream was still watching him, hands under his chin. </p><p>"<em>Stop watching me</em>!" </p><p>Dream chuckled and tilted his head. "I can't help it,"</p><p>George shook his head and attempted to make conversation in hopes Dream would stop <em>watching</em> him. "We never had anything like this back home,"</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>George gestured to the plate, and realizing that it wasn't enough, continued. "Stuff like this, rich. And certainly expensive."</p><p>"What did you do, back home?" Dream inquired. </p><p>He mulled it over and continued to eat before answering, "I baked mostly, looked after the animals. Sapnap was the spitfire, not me."</p><p>"Spitfire?"</p><p>George chuckled. "Oh, please. You've met him."</p><p>"Elaborate then."</p><p>He sighed, paused, ate, paused again. Then finally spoke, the words not tugging on his heart as they probably once did. As they <em>should've</em>. "He's a fighter, likes to get into trouble. Adventurous, always looking for a fight. I was always there to keep the peace you could say."</p><p>Dream laughed, he seemed to be doing that a lot in the short time George had been at the table, "Your so..."</p><p>George raised his eyebrow.</p><p>"Good."</p><p>"Good?"</p><p>Dream nodded, not offering any context. George sighed, it seemed Dream was going to make him work for this. "Well, how so?"</p><p>"You just <em>are</em>," He rolled his eyes at his masked companion, "What about you then?"</p><p>"Me?" Dream asked, incredulous. </p><p>George chuckled. "Yes, you."</p><p>"I'm," He paused, and George was sure that if he could see his face that his eyes would be furrowed, "I'm not good."</p><p>In a similar fashion to Dream, George tilted his head and mulled the spoken words over. "We'll have to see."</p><p>His mind flashed back to the bloodied clothing, to Dreams terrifying aura just days ago. George didn't doubt the things he knew Dream was capable of, he was peaceful but not stupid. By just a few encounters and moments of observation, he knew Dream was certainly someone to be feared. And someone who <em>was</em> most definitely feared. The way he had held his bloodied ax with ease, the fluidity of how he walked. </p><p>Dream's silent steps and presence, his mannerisms, the way he reduced Sapnap to tears. Just a few minutes of experiencing that bloodied version of Dream had told George everything he needed to know.</p><p>Dream was certainly dangerous. But the question was if he was dangerous to <em>George</em>. </p><p>That was something he couldn't answer. Not yet at least. </p><p>By the lack of response he got, he concluded that Dream didn't expect his answer. He himself didn't expect it, as George was technically a prisoner in his home. George should think of Dream as 'not good', but he couldn't bring himself too. </p><p>Deep down, he knew that he maybe enjoyed it here. Just a bit. It was new and different, and even though he was still grieving for Sapnap, and Bessy, George knew that in the darkest corners of his mind that he had always yearned for <em>something</em>. Something different,</p><p>He and Sapnap were alike in that way. </p><p>Cutting off his train of thought, not liking where it was going, George realized Dream hadn't responded. </p><p>As his earlier observations were, George wondered if Dream was used to being feared. Sapnap, someone who was never scared, had been in shambled.</p><p>Maybe that was why he was surprised by George's acceptance.</p><p>Maybe that was why he hadn't been upset at George's outburst.</p><p>With sudden clarity, it dawned on George. Dream was used to fear, he expected it, it was his default. He wasn't used to, admittedly one-sided, meals with laughter. </p><p>George felt himself melt and he smiled. Having only knowing Dream for not a week, he felt like he was starting to understand him, even if just a bit.</p><p>"Thank you," George hadn't realized he said it until the words were already out.</p><p>The silence broken, Dream responded, "For what?"</p><p>"For the bread," </p><p>Dream nodded in understanding, "I figured you'd be hungry."</p><p>As he said that, the candles lining the table they sat at flickered. With an audible groan, Dream continued, "Alright, alright. The castle made it, I just delivered it."</p><p>This had George doubling over in laughter, having been one of the strangest interactions he had ever seen in his life. Dream, and his place of residence, <em>bickering</em>. Referring to his castle as an alive thing, though it was alive in some way, was something that made his cheeks red from laughter. </p><p>Bickering about <em>bread</em> of all things. </p><p>"Still, thank you." </p><p>Georges looked down at his plate, which to his surprise was completely clean of the food that had previously been there. He hadn't even noticed, he had been too focused on his conversation with dream. </p><p>"I would bake a lot, at home," George recalled himself mentioning it earlier, baking. And elaborated on it, deciding to change the subject. </p><p>Dream tilted his head, "really?"</p><p>"Yeah, breads and pastries, stuff like that."</p><p>"You can make that here. If you wanted to, I mean."</p><p>George immediately beamed at the masked man with the concept of baking presented. "Really?"</p><p>"Really," Dream chuckled at him.</p><p>Conversation continued to flow easily between them, and eventually George's eyes heavied and his yawning became frequent. Dream walked with him back to his room, refusing to take George's half-hearted no's for an answer.</p><p>At the door facing Dream, his voice although usually soft and teasing, lowered even further as if whispering. "I had fun,"</p><p class="">"Me too," George smiled at him, thanked him, and before he closed the door whispered out,</p><p class="">"Goodnight, Dream."</p><p>"Goodnight, George." He replied. </p><p>As George lay down in his bed, a blush rose to his cheeks on how Dream's voice had gotten. </p><p>Flustered and tired, he fell asleep content.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to the people who left the kind words, the next chapter is gonna have baking and a library reveal ;)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Still can't believe I'm writing this. Well, at least it's practice.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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